


Hurricane

by frozenfoxfire (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Disability, M/M, Power Dynamics, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/frozenfoxfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Charles Xavier were a man to make similes, Erik Lensherr is like a hurricane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> \--written for one of the kink memes on LiveJournal.

If Charles Xavier were a man to make similes, Erik Lensherr is like a hurricane.

His power doesn't need to be seen to be felt; even walking purposefully to the door, it's obvious his tense and rolling form has enough confidence and ability within it to be an awe-striking sight. If Charles isn't careful, he finds himself holding his breath as Erik stalks around the room, quietly contemplating their next move. He feels almost as if he's been slapped across the face when Erik speaks or snaps or simply looks up at him, those intense green eyes of his piercing through his skull.

But when his power _is_ seen?

There's simply nothing like it.

If Charles thinks about it too long, he finds himself afraid of what Erik is and could possibly be capable of. He has the ability to draw metal, no matter what size, to himself from almost a hundred feet away; he's seen the German raise a sub from the sea and turn a satellite dish with only the smallest of nudges and flatten an entire city street worth of cars (it was terrifying, watching it on the news alone. He could never imagine actually being there in person).

He's felt binding metal around his arms and legs before; he's felt himself completely at the mercy of his best friend, hanging in the air and shaking more than the metal holding him there. He's been subjected to rage and sadness and the unfortunate accidental startling here and there. He knows just what Erik Lensherr is capable of, and just how violent that capability can be.

He's not sure what changes, under the cover of darkness.

Erik's lips and hands are warm on Charles' skin, the former soft and the latter calloused, and as he moves down Charles' body (taking care to move his useless legs over and raise his hips up as subtly as possible, purely for the telepath's benefit), Charles finds himself in awe. The power under Erik's skin is still there, still thrumming with a dangerous, almost murderous hum, but he's at such ease around Charles that it's almost easy to forget.

His pace is slow but passionate, demanding and gentle, hips rolling with a determination and care that continues to drive Charles wild hours after the fact (not that he particularly notices while it's happening; he's too busy clinging to Erik's shoulders, lips gasping into the man's sweaty shoulder, preoccupied with the one hand worked into his hair and the other matching the pace on his cock). He's got a particular rhythm, one special for Charles alone, that burns with a need for his body and mind but takes care to be gentle.

It's intoxicating, to think about.

Sometimes, he even allows Charles to combine their minds, and as their emotions build together and their bodies meet in ecstasy, the telepath can feel it all, right there, within every waking thought. His power, his need, his want. All of it. It's enough to send him over the edge, and strong enough to take Erik with him, head back and gasping as Erik tenderly holds him and they shake in unison.

In the morning, he's always gone again, Charles' dirty little secret. In the morning, there're more reports of the rapidly forming Brotherhood terrorizing more fancy dress parties filled with senators or galas to stop the mutant menace, and Charles is once again reminded of Erik's stunning power.

A calm, determined center of unparalleled beauty and an awe-inspiring cacophony of violence.

If Erik Lensherr is anything, it is a hurricane.


End file.
